Observations
by goldenpaw
Summary: Sequel to 'Reflections.' A short one shot surrounding family life in the Stark household.


_**A/N: Hello again darlings, sorry about the wait. Here we have the second installment of 'Reflections,' which will most likely end up being a trilogy, but no promises. On another note, if there are any suggestions or ideas you'd like to see in the future please PM me. Much thanks, please enjoy! **_

**Observations**

It is now that I watch them play behind the sofa, various plastic toys and the like scattered throughout the house like little land mines, lying silently in wait for their next unwitting victim. A smile tugs at my lips as I remember the first time Anthony stepped on a Leggo in the middle of the night, yowling like a feral cat and shouting curses at the guilty block until it was no more than a smear on the carpet. Or so he wished. I laugh softly at the memory and kneel on the center cushion to cast a curious glance over the sofa at my family.

Anthony holds a small horse and cowboy in his hands, making all the necessary noises to amuse our son as he too gallivants around with a horse and an Indian; obviously enjoying their Leggo fort Anthony and I had built with him. I laugh again at his enthusiasm, climbing over the couch to join them in their game of Round Up.

It is after we've put James to bed that the smile fades from his lips and his shoulders slouch ever so slightly. Although the light of joy hasn't left his eyes, I can still sense his growing fatigue as I follow him to our bedroom.

"He's only three and such a handful already." He sits on the edge of our overly plush bed, rubbing his eyes with callused fingers that I know all too well. "I think he gets it from you."

We share a laugh at this and I move behind him, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Imagine how he'll be as a teenager." Now it is my turn to be tired, the thought alone causing physical fatigue.

"What's the matter, the mighty Loki_, god of mischief_ can't handle a little teenage melodrama?" He smirks up at me, a new light burning in his eyes, and I can't help but return the gesture.

"I think melodrama will be the least of our worries. He's already showing traits of a magic weaver." I grin at this, pride for my beautiful son forcing my heart to swell to an impossible volume. He only groans at this new information, flopping gracelessly onto the comforter swathing our bed. I smile at his frustration and lay atop him as if he were the mattress itself, snuggling comfortably under his stubbled chin. I sigh contentedly as I feel a gentle tug on the ends of my hair, fingers barely ghosting over my scalp as he combes though my hair.

"You do realize we're both still fully dressed, right?" He asks softly, receiving only a soft grunt in return. He sighs dramatically and drags us both to a much needed shower.

It is after he has finally fallen asleep amongst the massive pile of pillows that I may observe him without distraction. Gentle breathes cause his delicate mortal frame to rise and fall ever so slightly, eyes move behind his closed lids as he dreams. Although the nightmares stopped long ago, I still find myself awake every few hours just to make sure he continues to respirate. My touches are feather light at first as not to wake him, but with just enough force to feel him under my fingertips. Warm and alive under my gaze. A surge of anger wells up in my breast as I see the beginning signs of age starting to deepen in the lines on his face and the subtle lightening of his hair. I am angry at the Fates for making him mortal. Angry with myself for not being so. Furious, for in a few short decades he will be dead, but not gone. Never will he be gone from my heart and mind.

He wakes to my unblinking eyes seemingly appraising him and catches my hand as it moves to stroke his cheek once more. He is fully awake now, dark pools staring back into my core, a question on his lips. it is never asked as I press my own against his, stealing away any thought he may have given to such an inquiry.

The night is long and slow as it was all those years ago, his arc reactor no doubt casting a glow over my already pale skin, making it seem translucent. He says nothing for the longest time, simply caressing my face as if he intends to memorize every mark and texture. He laces our fingers over my stomach, once again flat, remembering. I smile softly at his stroking thumb, stealing another kiss before turning and pulling him impossibly close, just to hear the reassuring thud that comes with the silence.

His wonderful fingers trace what I can only assume are equations over my back and shoulders, causing an involuntary shiver on my part. I resume my place under his chin, taking in the scent that is purely Anthony. At some point I drift off, secured in his strong and warm arms as if I would cease to exist when he let go. I open my eyes to a beautiful sunrise; the new day's light igniting an explosion of colors in his eyes and hair. I ignore the silver strands, as they just remind me of past anger and grief.

We lay together for quite some time, basking in a deep and comfortable silence until I feel him smile above me. "Three… two… one… and…"

I roll my eyes on his insistence to count down and brace for the coming toddler. He chuckles and untangles his fingers from my hair that desperately needs a trim, opening his arms for the giggling mass squirming between us.

"Good morning Daddy!" His smile is that of pure innocence, and I am angry that I will one day too soon lose him to someone else who will steal his heart.

"Good morning to you James." We both reply, Anthony with a knowing smile plastered on his unshaven face. He kisses the product of our love on his forehead, moving to exit the bed and presumably start the coffee maker. We follow him to the kitchen, JARVIS already preheating the oven for James' favorite cinnamon buns.

As they sit at the large wooden table, I cannot help but smile at what I have become in this short span of time. What Anthony has become. What James will become with endless possibilities and an intellect clearly visible despite his tender age. Perhaps one day he will know his heritage, and perhaps one day he too will be a great sorcerer and weaver of magic. And perhaps, like his parents, he too will be a silver tongued devil.

All I can do now is watch and wait, making sure to build on and correct the mistakes my father made with me. Never will he not know praise for a job well done, nor will he ever feel abandoned by his family. If one thing in my future is certain, it is that I will always hold a deep love for the man sipping coffee across from the boy whom we will both gladly lay down our lives for. Forever loving.

_**A/N: And there you have it, extra fluffy cute just because I love you all so very much. As I said before, there may be a third part, depending on the amount of attention this receives. *wink wink nudge nudge* reviews feed my soul! Feed it you stingy bastards! It's fucking hungry!**_

_**With love, **_

_**~Goldenpaw**_


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